Twisted
by jewel21
Summary: *COMPLETE* When a sick and twisted individual sets his sights on Angela Boscorelli its up to Bosco to do everything in his power to protect her, even if it means putting his own life in jeapordy.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Twisted   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
Author's Note: I've been working on this story for over a month now, around the same time as I was writing 'Test of Time'. I should have posted this story sooner but I had wanted to focus more of my attention, at the time, to 'Test of Time'. However, because of my wait, another talented author ended up having a similar idea to me, lol. After some dilemma and much debating as to whether or not to post this story, I emailed Starbright because of the fact that both of our stories have such a similar concept. I told her of my dilemma and she was nice enough to tell me to go ahead and post this story regardless. I would just like to thank her for being so nice and understanding. I would also like to remind everyone to read her story, 'Watching Her' in addition to mine. Lastly, I would also like to thank CCA for encouraging me to write this story even though I have felt like giving up countless times. Now without further ado, onto the story :)   
  
  
  
  
  
Twisted by Jewel21  
  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
  
The man observed her from across the room. His gaze was fixed, his eyes unmoving, as he drank in her beauty. He watched her as she chatted with the patrons. He saw her smile briefly and he could feel his heart beat faster. She was magnificent, he thought to himself. It had been a week since he had first come here and lain eyes on her. He still couldn't believe that he had spent 49 years of his existance without her. He felt as though his whole life had been spent living in a cave, shrouded in darkness, and it was only since he'd lain eyes on her that he had finally seen the sun.   
  
  
He recalled the evening he had first set eyes on her fondly. He had walked into the bar, tired after a long day at work, and there she was. He recalled being mesmerized by her standing before him in the smoky bar. She had asked him what he had wanted and he had been tongue-tied. She had smiled and asked him if the cat had gotten his tongue and all he could do was stare at her before mumbling a scotch on the rocks. She smiled and had handed him his drink before moving down the bar to serve another client. Her beauty had spellbound him as he sat at the back of the bar, covered by the security of the shadows. He had observed her every movement from the way she had tucked her hair behind her ear, to the way she had pulled the cigarette she had been holding between her fingers to her full red lips. He had watched as she had seductively inhaled the smoke before letting it escape through her slightly parted lips to tease the air around her. Finally, it had been closing time and he had been forced to leave, wondering how he was going to survive the day without her in his sights.   
  
  
It had been seven days since that day, and the past seven nights had been spent at the bar, watching her bathed in the dim light. He wondered why he had been cursed all those years by not knowing her. Sure there had been others, but he had quickly learned that they were not meant to be. Each time he had assumed that they were the one, they turned around and hurt him, made him realize that they weren't meant to be together. And so, he had been forced to dispose of them one by one. But, as he watched her from across the room, riveted by her every move, he knew that she was his soul mate. And, although he had thought these very same thoughts before, he knew that this time was different. It has to be, he thought to himself. She'll be mine. We'll live together in happiness for all eternity, he said to himself, his sick mind already formulating a plan to make her his. A sigh escaped from him as he watched her pour a drink. He spun her name around in his head, relishing the sound of it. He had been ecstatic two days ago when he had asked the man beside him what her name was. He said it now, and loved how it rolled off of his tongue and seduced the air around him. "You," The man whispered, taking in the love of his life. "You and I are meant to be together, and soon we will be. Very soon." He said before standing up and making his way out of the deserted bar, following the last patron out.   
  
  
"Bye. Come back soon." She called out to his retreating back.  
  
  
"Thank you." He said quietly, stopping to gaze at her, marveling at the sight before him. "I will." He said with much intensity.  
  
  
She smiled at him, a little puzzled by his actions. "You do that." She told him as she started to put the glasses away.  
  
  
"I will." The man said once more under his breath before leaving, his head ducked low. "Don't worry, soon you and I will be together forever, Angela Boscorelli." The man said out loud into the empty, deserted street, his words instantly swallowed up by the night. He hummed as he walked towards his car, his hands deep in his coat pockets, and the only other sound the crunch of his feet on the snow covered ground. His whistling could be heard as he slowly made his way across the street, his mind already weaving a plan to make her his, his heart soaring at the life they would lead together.   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
  
  
  
  
The sunlight filtering in through the partially opened blinds caused the man to wake up. He squinted as he opened his eyes and glanced at the clock beside him. The numbers 6:03 am glared back at him. He debated whether or not to go back to sleep. He still had another hour before his alarm went off but decided against it. He was eager to start the day, for it meant that the night would pass sooner and he would once again be able to see her. Angela. He whistled as he walked to the washroom, his thoughts on her, the way she walked, talked, smiled. He was so deep into his thoughts that he almost failed to notice the thump coming from the basement. Angry at being interrupted, he stalked down the basement steps, easily maneuvering around the room in the dark. He stood over the carpet covering the center of the room and quickly pulled it back, revealing the hatch beneath. He pulled it open and descended down the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he paused to open the lights before fixing his gaze at her.   
  
  
He saw her huddled in the corner of the room, her face and clothes streaked with dirt. Her hands were bound before her, the rope cutting into her flesh, leaving it raw and abraded. Her feet were also tied and her mouth was gagged. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. He could see the table she had knocked over lying on its side and rage filled him. "You stupid bitch!" He screamed as he stalked towards her and roughly grabbed her by the arm, cutting of her circulation. "Look at what you did! I told you not to touch anything!" He screamed, his face mere inches from hers, his eyes mad. He could see the tears run down her cheeks, leaving trails down her dirty face. She mumbled, trying to say something, but the gag prevented her from doing so. He roughly pulled it off of her, catching one of her earrings in the process. "What?" He asked her, as he glared at her pathetic form.   
  
  
"Why are you doing this to me?" She cried out as she stared up at her captor.   
  
  
"You lied to me." The man shouted, anger and rage coursing through his veins. "You lied. I thought you were the one but you used me, you played me just like all the others did. I trusted you and you lied, you made me believe that we were meant for one another."  
  
  
"You're insane. You know that?" She cried out. The man felt his temper rise at being called insane. "You're a sick son of a bitch." She said before being cut off by a backhand to the face. Her head swung back from the blow and tears stung her eyes as pain coursed through her.   
  
  
"Don't call me crazy!" The man shrieked at her, his face turning several shades of red. "You bitch! You lied to me; you used me just like all the others. You made a fool out of me. I will not be mocked!" He yelled as he began to hit her repeatedly. "You'll pay for what you did just like all the others." Suddenly, the sound of the phone interrupted him. He watched as the woman before him slumped unconscious to the ground, her face soaked with blood. He gazed at her for a moment, his face expressionless, before turning off the light and closing the door to the cellar. As he made his way to the phone, he vowed to get rid of her that evening.   
  
  
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Angela Boscorelli pulled into her parking space and got out of her car, making her way towards her bar. She could feel the skin on the back of her neck start to prickle. Frowning, she turned around and scanned the street around her but all seemed deserted. She shook her head, smiling at her own nervousness, before making her way towards the front entrance. In her haste, she almost didn't notice the small red rose lying on the ground. Her brow creased in puzzlement before bending down and picking it up. She saw the small card on the ground and picked that up as well, before unlocking the door and entering the deserted bar. She locked the door behind her and made her way to the counter. She quickly pulled open the note and read the simple message, "For the most beautiful woman in the world, love always."   
  
  
"Huh." Angela said out loud as she put the note down and filled up a glass with water to put the rose in. Her cheeks were flushed at the knowledge that someone had found her attractive. She turned on the radio and started to hum as she did an inventory of her stock, oblivious to the eyes that were watching her through the window.  
  
  
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The man watched her lovingly from across the street in his car. He smiled joyfully as he saw her place the red rose he had gotten her in a glass before getting to work. He relished in the knowledge that soon they would be together. Suddenly he frowned as he recalled that there was still one obstacle preventing him from being with Angela. As his thoughts flashed to the woman who was in his cellar, the bitch who had lied and used him, he could feel his temper rising. He gripped the steering wheel in anger, his knuckles turning white, as he pictured her face. However, just as suddenly as his anger had materialized, it quickly dissipated as he realized that soon he would be rid of her, thereby allowing him to be free to pursue Angela, the true love of his life. He debated going back home and killing her right away, but sighed as he glanced at the clock on his dashboard and realized that his lunch hour was over. Sadly, he gazed out of his windshield one last time, staring longingly at her, before ripping is gaze away and starting the engine. "I'll see you tonight." The man said into the empty car as he fixed his eyes on her. "Dammit!" He cursed as he realized that that he had to dispose of his "problem." After all he reflected, how could he be free to be with Angela if he was still tied to someone else? He realized that if he was going to kill her tonight, he wouldn't be able to see Angela. Pure animalistic rage filled him at not being able to spend time with his obsession. "Damn you, you bitch!" The man screamed his face red as he pummeled the steering wheel and dashboard before him. He noticed a passerby stare at him strangely before reigning in his temper. It would do him no good to lose his temper and attract unwanted attention and he quickly chastised himself for doing so. Realizing that it would only be for one evening, and that soon he would be spending every waking moment with Angela by his side, he took a deep breath and tried to soothe his frazzled nerves. Just as quickly as his temper had flared out of control, he quickly reigned it in once more. He stared intensely at Angela one last time before directing his car into the afternoon traffic. "Just give me tonight, my love, to make things right and afterward we'll be together forever in mind, body and soul. I'll see to it." The man said intensely before turning on the radio. As he listened to the song, he wondered if Angela was listening to the same words he was, the thought sending a warm glow through his body.   
  
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Let me know what you guys think, I really want to know whether I should continue this story or not. Your feedback is much appreciated. Thanks. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Twisted   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
  
As the wind whipped violently through the trees and howled, making the night seem even more sinister than it already was, the man stepped out of his car into the bitter cold. The only light was that of the moon shining above him as it cast an eerie glow on the otherwise deserted street. The man hummed as he quickly reached his hand into his long black coat and pulled out his keys, the moonlight reflecting off of them. He thrust it into the keyhole and turned the lock, letting himself into his home. He turned on the hall light, causing eerie shadows to spill into the living room. His boots echoed noisily throughout the house as he stepped onto the hard wood floors. Calmly, he walked into the kitchen, and reached his leather clad hands into the kitchen drawer before finally pulling out the sinister looking knife, the serrated blade glittering menacingly in the poor light. He laid it on the counter before taking off his coat and removing his tie. Making his way into the bedroom, he quickly removed his dress shirt and pants, leaving on the black leather gloves, and donned a pair of old jeans and a work shirt, not wanting to stain his good clothes. Satisfied with his attire, he quickly glanced at himself in the mirror before moving back to the kitchen and picking up the knife. The feel of it in his hand sent a spark of pleasure to course through his body. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of it in his hand, delighted in the sense of power that coursed through his veins. He sighed in pleasure before opening his eyes and glancing at the door which led to the basement. "It is time." The man decided before walking to the door and pulling it open. Nothing was going to stand in his way.  
  
  
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The woman had been asleep, exhaustion finally having settled over her, but the sound of the footsteps moving above her caused her to jolt awake, her terror instantly returning. She quickly tried to sit up and pulled at her bonds in desperation, the rough cord causing her already abraded wrists to open up and bleed once more. The woman froze in dread as she heard the basement door open. The man's heavy footsteps could be heard as he slowly made his way down the wooden steps. As the door to the cellar was pulled open, the light from the basement filtered into the pitch-black room. The woman saw the man walk down the steps, his shadow reflecting on the wall before her. She closed her eyes in dread, not needing to see the sinister weapon he was holding in his hand, instinctively knowing that her time was up.  
  
  
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As the man placed his foot on the last step, he fixed his cold eyes on his captive. The sight before him caused a shiver of anticipation to travel down his body. He quickly turned on the light forcing her to open her eyes and take in the monster standing before her. Her eyes widened in terror as she took in the man before her, his eyes glittering madly. At her expression, his face twisted into a sick smile as thoughts of what he would do to her filtered through his brain. He shivered once more in anticipation and slowly made his way towards her, soaking in every moment, not wanting to rush anything, the pleasure far too great. He smiled at the sight of the woman's renewed terror as she struggled before him with her bonds. He tightened his grip on the knife and moved it from side to side, loving how the light bounced off of it, marveling at its beauty. He stood in front of the woman lying helpless before him, before plunging the knife downwards, her muffled shriek causing him to plunge deeper once more. Thoughts of how she had betrayed him fueled his insanity as he continued to stab her. He was oblivious to the spray of her blood, the vicious fluid, as it splattered across the room and on him. He basked in the sound of the crunch of bone as his knife plunged deeply. Happiness coursed through his body at the knowledge that now he would be free to pursue Angela, the actual love of his life. Still angered that the bitch before him had deceived him, he continued to stab her, furious at being played for a fool. Finally, his arm slowed and he quickly pulled the knife out of her, staring down with detached eyes at the mangled corpse before him. He slowly got up and grabbed a towel beside him, wiping the blood from his face as he took in the blood-soaked room. He sighed as he thought of the hours it would take to rid the room of blood. He quickly gathered several garbage bags and used them to gather up the body. Once she was effectively bundled, he changed his clothes and hauled her body outside as he made his way in the dark to his car. He made certain that no one was watching before placing the corpse in his trunk. He double-checked that his front door was locked before starting up his car and driving away to dispose of the body, his thoughts on how to clean up the mess. Soon however, his thoughts moved onto Angela and a warm tingling sensation overcame him. "Soon." He whispered as he drove in the early hours of the night. "Soon, my love." He said, his mad laughter echoing throughout the car. 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Twisted   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
  
  
  
  
"Matt, I'm hungry." Sarah said to her boyfriend as they made their way along 23rd Avenue.   
  
  
"I know, baby." Matt said as he stared at his girlfriend.   
  
  
"Can't we get a hot dog or something?" She asked, her stomach growling.   
  
  
"Baby, I told you. We don't have any money." He said patiently.  
  
  
"The last time we ate was yesterday morning." She whined, hunger and fatigue making her cranky.   
  
  
"Kay, look." He said as he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the back of a Chinese restaurant.   
  
  
"Where are we going?" She asked, following him. Her question was answered when he stopped in front of the giant dumpster.   
  
  
"These people throw out all kinds of food, most of it's still good." He said as he quickly climbed inside the overflowing dumpster and started rummaging around. Sara stayed below watching him. Although slightly disgusted at the thought of eating food that had been lying in garbage, she was ravished.   
  
  
"Holy shit." Matt said, his voice easily traveling the distance to her.   
  
  
"What? You find anything good?" Sarah called out, her voice hopeful. She waited for a response but got none.  
  
  
"Matt?" She asked again, trying to catch a glimpse of her boyfriend. She saw him finally get up, his face pale.   
  
  
"Honey, what's wrong?" She asked as she took in his appearance. "Matt?" She said, fear suddenly seizing her. She saw him back away and shakily make his way out of the dumpster. "Matt, what's wrong?" She cried out, her voice hinging on hysteria as she saw her boyfriend trembling, sweat breaking out on his brow, despite the freezing temperature. Just as she was about to ask him once more what he had seen, one of the employees from the restaurant made his way out the back door.  
  
  
"What the hell are you kids doing here? Bunch of worthless punks. Why don't you try to get a job instead of hanging around in dumpsters. Get the fuck out of here before I call the police." The employee said to them.   
  
  
"When you call them," Matt finally said his voice shaky and detached, his eyes unfocused, "Tell them that there's a body in your dumpster." He said oblivious to everyone's reaction, stuck in his own personal hell.   
  
  
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"Is this the place?" Faith asked as Bosco drove the RMP into the alleyway of the Chinese restaurant.   
  
  
"This is it." He said simply as he got out of the squad car and made his way to the small group of people standing before the dumpster.   
  
  
"Which one of you guys called this in?" He asked as he took in the three pale civilians.  
  
  
"I did." The employee said, stepping forward.   
  
  
"What's your name, sir?" Faith asked, as she took in the scene before her, noting that the three people looked sweaty and clammy despite the weather.   
  
  
"Tommy Jerkins." The man said, stepping forward.   
  
  
"Can you tell me what happened, sir?" She asked him.  
  
  
"I was coming outside to throw out some trash when I saw these two kids in front of the dumpster obviously looking for food." The man said, as Faith took in the two teens, their dirty clothes and faces indicating that they were runaways.  
  
  
"Then what happened?" Bosco piped up.  
  
  
"I told them that if they didn't get lost I was going to call the cops. I can't have kids traipsing through the garbage -" The man explained to the two officers.   
  
  
"What happened next?" Faith asked, cutting him off.   
  
  
"Well, the kid turned around," Tommy said, tilting his head towards the teen, "And said that when I do, to tell him that there was a body in there. At first I thought he was on something, you know? I mean look at him. But I was curious so I went to check..." The man said, his voice shaking.  
  
  
"Was there?" Faith asked him, already knowing the answer just by his demeanor.  
  
  
"Oh, yeah." The man said, an involuntary shudder passing through him as the memory of the body he had seen, assaulted his vision.   
  
  
"Were they alive?" Bosco asked, already climbing up the dumpster to see for himself.  
  
  
"No." Matt piped in, his voice far away.  
  
  
"What's your name, sir?" She asked as she took in the two teens before her, neither of which could be more than 17 years old.   
  
  
"Matt and this is my girlfriend Sarah." He said, nodding his head in her direction. "We were looking for food." He said simply.  
  
  
"Holy shit!" Bosco said as he took in the sight before him.  
  
  
"Bos?" Faith called out, trying to see her partner, but unable to do so since he was completely emerged in the dumpster. A moment later, she saw his head pop out. He quickly made his way out of the dumpster and came to stand beside Faith.  
  
  
"There's definitely a body in there." He said, trying to appear calm even though nausea coursed through him at the sight he had just witnessed.   
  
  
"Is he -" Faith began before being cut off.  
  
  
"She," Bosco corrected, " And no." Faith stared at him for a moment before radioing in what they had learned.  
  
  
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"What can you tell me?" Bosco asked the detective as he watched the body being wheeled into the back of the coroner's van, ready to be taken to the morgue.  
  
  
"I can't say too much right now." The detective told the two police officers. "But, I'd say that she was brutally stabbed with a large serrated blade. I'd even go as far as saying that she was stabbed close to 50 times. Whoever did this really wanted her dead."   
  
  
"It was a crime of passion." Faith mused out loud.   
  
  
"I'd say that's exactly what it was." The detective said, looking at her. "We'll find out more when we can ID the body."  
  
  
"Good luck." Bosco said, recalling the brutally mutilated corpse.  
  
  
"We'll be using dental records." The detective said, getting ready to leave.  
  
  
"Bye." Faith said before turning around to face her partner.  
  
  
"God, can you imagine how sick the son of a bitch must be who did this?" Bosco asked as they made their way to their RMP.  
  
  
"Want to hear something even more disturbing?" Faith asked as they got into the car and closed the doors.  
  
  
"What?" He asked as he turned around to face her.  
  
  
"That sick son of a bitch is still out there. Think about it. He could be anywhere." Faith said. They stared at one another for several seconds before taking off, each deep in thought. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Twisted   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
  
Angela was carrying some boxes up from the basement when a knock at the front door caught her attention. She frowned as she looked up before making her way to the door. She was about to tell whoever it was that they were closed when she noticed the floral delivery truck outside. Her brow creased in puzzlement as she took in the delivery man standing before her, holding a rather large, yet breathtaking floral arrangement in his hands. She quickly unlocked the door. "Can I help you?" She asked.  
  
  
"I have a delivery for an Angela Boscorelli."   
  
  
"I'm Angela Boscorelli."   
  
  
"I just need you to sign here, ma'am." The delivery man said, handing her his pen and clipboard.   
  
  
"Who are they from?" Angela asked. She spied the card but the only message on it said, "To a beautiful woman." There was no signature.  
  
  
"I don't know?" The man shrugged unconcerned, as he took his pen back and handed her the flowers.  
  
  
"Thanks." Angela called out as she quickly locked the door and made her way inside. She set the bouquet on the bar and admired the gorgeous arrangement. Although slightly perturbed, she couldn't prevent the small smile that stretched across her face at the knowledge that someone still found her attractive. As she arranged the flowers, she couldn't help but to wonder who had sent them.  
  
  
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The man sat in his car across the street. A grin was etched on his face as he watched Angela place the floral arrangement he had gotten her on the counter. For a second he wondered if she liked them, if she liked him. Fear seized him suddenly, the possibility of being rejected far too much for him to handle. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Soon, reassurance flowed through him once more, and when he opened his eyes, he was smiling. Of course she loved the flowers, he thought chastising himself. They were meant to be together. She loved him just as much as he loved her. They were going to be together forever, he reasoned. Satisfied in this knowledge, he fixed intense eyes on his obsession once more. "I'll see you tonight my love." He said before starting the car and putting it into drive. He pulled out into the traffic, a huge grin on his face. Now that he had disposed of his 'problem' he was finally free to be with Angela. There was absolutely nothing and nobody standing in his way. "Soon, very soon." He whispered his face suddenly serious. "Nothing's going to prevent us from being together. Nothing."  
  
  
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Angela was pouring a drink for a client when she saw her eldest son walk through the front door. "Hey, ma." Bosco said as he walked up to her. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek before moving back. "So, what's up?" He asked her as he sat down in the stool across from her.  
  
  
"Nothing much." She told him as she poured him a drink. "You look like you had a rough day at work." She said as she took in her haggard looking son. Bosco wearily ran his hand through his hair before pulling the glass towards him and downing the amber liquid, the fluid instantly warming him from the inside out.   
  
  
"You could say that." Bosco said as he slowly turned the glass in his hands, watching the light reflect off of it, deep in thought.  
  
  
"Tough day at work?" His mother asked as she leaned towards him, staring intently into her son's eyes. He stared at her for a moment, thinking of the brutally mutilated corpse he had seen earlier that day, before opening his mouth to speak.  
  
  
"Just a long day I guess." He told her casually. "It's the same crap every time. God this city is just full of psychos."  
  
  
"Any particular case you're talking about?" She asked him as she straightened up.  
  
  
"Nah." He told her, holding out his glass so that she could refill it. She frowned slightly before grabbing the Jack Daniels and pouring him another shot.   
  
  
"Go easy with this, okay?" She told him as she put the bottle away. Bosco nodded his head before taking another sip of the whiskey. He looked at the bar and finally noticed the flower arrangement.  
  
  
"Where'd the flowers come from?" He asked her curiously.  
  
  
"Oh, those." His mother said, as she looked at them, her cheeks slightly flushed. "They came this morning." She told him as she poured a drink for a client.  
  
  
"Who're they from?" Bosco asked, trying to appear nonchalant but deeply intrigued.  
  
  
"I don't know." Angela said, putting the bottle away.  
  
  
"You don't know?" Bosco said slowly, trying to understand.  
  
  
"They didn't sign the card."  
  
  
"Well, what did it say?" Bosco asked her.  
  
  
"To a beautiful woman." Angela said, a trace of pride in her voice.  
  
  
"To a beautiful woman?" Bosco asked, somewhat incredulously.  
  
  
"Don't look so surprised." Angela snapped, her feelings hurt. "You know, your mother was a very beautiful woman back in her day," She told him, pointing her finger at him, "And I can still turn a few heads." She said, leaning towards him, her elbows on the bar, their heads close.  
  
  
"I know -" Bosco started to say, trying to defend himself from the onslaught attack.   
  
  
"Well you best remember it." Angela Boscorelli said huffily as she straightened up once more.  
  
  
"Ma, how can I forget that?" Bosco asked, putting on his most sincere smile, trying desperately to back out of the corner he had gotten himself into.  
  
  
"Nice try." Angela said, but a smile broke across her face at her son's obvious discomfort. "Is it so hard to believe that someone finds me attractive?" She asked him as she lit a cigarette.   
  
  
"No. What I find hard to believe is that you're not at all curious as to who this guy is." Bosco told her, carefully choosing his words.  
  
  
"I never said I wasn't curious." Angela told her eldest as she exhaled, blowing the smoke away from him.  
  
  
"Is this the first time you've gotten something from this 'admirer'?" Bosco asked, his drink forgotten.  
  
  
"Not that it's any of your business but no. I got a rose and another note a couple of days ago." She said casually as she poured herself a drink.  
  
  
"What did it say?" Bosco asked concerned.  
  
  
"For the most beautiful woman in the world, love always." Angela said, smiling wistfully.  
  
  
"You're not at all concerned by this?" Bosco asked, his voice filled with disbelief.  
  
  
"Concerned that someone just happens to find me attractive and wants to send me flowers?" Angela asked, clearly annoyed.  
  
  
"No. Concerned that some psycho you don't know is sending you flowers and creepy notes." Bosco said exasperated, not understanding how his mother could fail to see the danger of the situation.  
  
  
"There's nothing wrong with someone finding someone attractive and sending them flowers." Angela told him snubbing out her cigarette. She saw the worry in his eyes and sighed. "Maurice baby," She told him stooping down to his level, " I understand that you're worried but don't be. I know that being a cop your mind works overtime, especially witnessing the things you do on a daily basis but you don't have to worry. This person is harmless." She told him staring into his face.  
  
  
Bosco sighed, shaking his head at his over-reaction. "Yeah, you're probably right." He said as he got up and gave his mother another kiss on the cheek before grabbing his jacket and putting it on. "You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I've just had a long day at work." Bosco told her as he fingered his car keys. "Just...be careful, okay?" He told her, "I mean you never know..." He said trailing off, suddenly feeling ridiculous.  
  
  
"Yes, I'll be careful." Angela said, obviously trying to appease her son. "And would you do me a favor? Would you please stop worrying so much and stop trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You'll only go gray prematurely and give yourself an ulcer." She told him, lighting up another cigarette. Bosco just shook his head at her before turning around and heading out the door.  
  
  
"Drive carefully." His mother called out as she watched his retreating back.  
  
  
"Stop worrying so much." He said, throwing her words back at her before walking into the cool night air. Angela shook her head and sighed before going back to work, completely oblivious to the pair of furious eyes that were boring a hole into her.  
  
  
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The man sat in the corner of the dimly lit and smoky bar. He had watched the entire exchange and pure rage filled him. The entire time he had cursed the fact that he hadn't been able to hear the conversation that was taking place between Angela and her lover. He had watched as the man had come into the bar and walked right up to Angela, obviously knowing her. As the man kissed her, he could feel his blood pressure rising. He had observed how the man had leaned in close, his lips caressing her skin, lingering there. Anger filled him at the concept that someone else had touched his woman. That someone had so blatantly touched what was clearly his. He saw how easily they interacted with one another, the smiles they threw at one another, and watched as Angela's face had lit up at the sight of him. He could see different emotions reflected on her face ranging form happiness to concern and a brief flicker of irritation until concern once more dominated her features. But, the one emotion that was constantly there, that never faltered the entire time that Angela and the man were talking together, was love. He could see it clearly in her eyes even from across the room. He watched as she leaned down seductively towards her lover, her cleavage exposed and felt himself growing even more angry. How dare she taunt him so blatantly? How dare she love another, he thought to himself. He watched as they kissed once more, his sick, twisted mind failing to see what the kiss really was, a mere peck on the cheek between mother and son. Instead, his mind twisted what he saw until it fit his own warped perception. To him, it was the kiss shared between lovers, done to taunt him, to make him jealous. He watched as the man finally left and fixed enraged eyes on Angela. As he watched her at the bar, clearly mocking him, taunting him, teasing him, he could feel himself losing control. Suddenly, the shattering of glass met his ears. Startled, he looked down and saw that the glass he had been gripping had shattered under the force of his hand. Slowly, he opened it and watched detached as the shards of glass clattered onto the tabletop. He calmly picked the pieces of glass out of his hand and watched as drops of blood, his blood, welled up in his palm. Feeling no pain, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his injured hand. Once the makeshift bandage was secure he fixed his murderous eyes on his obsession once more. He vowed to himself that both she and the man would suffer for their actions earlier this evening. He would not just sit around idly while someone else stole what was his. He vowed to kill the man, getting rid of the last obstacle that was standing in his way. Then, he decided he would teach Angela a lesson about being loyal. 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Twisted   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
  
  
As the man sat in his car several days later waiting for Angela to close up and go home, he thought about what he had witnessed just three days before, still not able to get the image of Angela and her lover out of his head. Every night the sight of them kept him awake as he replayed the scene over and over again in his mind until eventually it spun out of control. Soon, all he could see were their naked and entwined bodies lying together, and so every night he woke up in a cold sweat, fearing that he would lose her.   
  
  
He still couldn't believe that she had back-stabbed him, that she had cheated on him. Although the urge to kill the man, to wrap his hands around the bastard's neck and squeeze until his eyes popped, his face reddened and his windpipe crushed beneath his fingertips, he couldn't. Not yet anyway, for he had no idea where the man lived. Although he suspected that he lived with Angela, his Angela, he had no proof. And so, his revenge would have to wait a little bit longer.   
  
  
But, as enraged as he was at the man, he was also furious with Angela. She was the love of his life. They were meant to be together. Why couldn't she see that? Why couldn't she understand? Didn't she realize that the man she had so openly flirted with in the bar that dreadful night was not who she was destined to be with? Didn't she care? How could she not have felt him in the bar, just as he could feel her? Didn't he surround her senses until he was all she could see, hear, and taste just as she did to him? Was it possible that she didn't feel the same about him? Could he be wrong about her just the way he had been wrong about the others before her?   
  
  
He shook his head in a meager attempt to clear it, refusing to entertain these thoughts any longer. He would not do this. He refused to. He knew that they were destined to be together, he could feel it in his gut, it screamed through his veins. The feeling was much too powerful to simply be a figment of his imagination, wasn't it? He shook his head once more and cursed himself. "Of course we're meant to be together." He said. " I just have to get rid of the bastard she was with first." His words menacing as he turned his thoughts towards the man he had seen Angela throw herself at.   
  
  
Suddenly, a cloud was lifted and his vision cleared. He understood why Angela failed to realize that she was meant to be with him, she was being brain-washed, disillusioned by that man, he reasoned, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel in anger. " I have to kill him." He said simply as he stared out of the windshield. "It's the only way the spell he's cast over you will be broken." He realized, mentally kicking himself over his own stupidity and insecurity. "I don't know what he's done to turn you against me, but rest assured he won't be allowed to do it much longer." He vowed, watching her shadow behind the closed blinds. "And you, my love," He said, his voice sinister, "You will know that we are meant to be together." He said, still peeved that she had allowed the man to disillusion her so easily. " I will make sure that you will know not to cross me again."   
  
  
As he watched her make her way out of the bar, stopping to lock the door behind her before making her way to her car, he could feel a spark of anger flickering within him. He watched as she climbed into her car and slowly made her way onto the quiet street. He waited until she was a block and a half away before putting his car into drive and following behind at a safe distance, his fingers tightening in anticipation. "Maybe I should remind you who you are really meant to be with." He mused out loud; his gaze fixed intently on the car ahead of him.  
  
  
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As Angela stepped out of her car and made her way to the front door of her apartment complex, she could feel the hair on the back of her neck slowly start to rise. She quickly turned around and gazed down the street, fear of the unknown playing tricks with her mind. She watched as a lone car made its way slowly down the street. For some unknown reason, she could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest as she quickly reached ice-cold fingers into her purse, frantically looking for her keys. She saw the car continue down the street and turn the corner, and finally let out the breath she had been so desperately holding. Shaking her head at her nervousness, she quickly pulled her keys out and unlocked her front door. She smiled and shook her head at her silliness, slightly cursing her son for making her worry so much, his words back at the bar that night having made her edgier than usual. She locked the front door behind her, failing to notice the car that was slowly backing down the street before coming to a stop in front of her building.  
  
  
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The man sat in his car, burning a hole into the front of the apartment complex with the intensity of his gaze. He sat in he car fuming, his anger growing stronger by the minute. He opened the glove compartment, practically ripping it open in his haste, and pulled out a pen and paper, the black leather gloves making it difficult to grasp the pen. Angrily, he began to write, his pen moving furiously over the paper, tearing it in spots in his haste. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he stopped writing and stared at the message before him, scrawled in angry blood red letters. He quickly folded it and placed it into an envelope, writing her name in block red letters on the front. Satisfied that Angela would no longer mistake what they have; he opened up the car door and silently made his way to her building. He looked around before bending down and sliding the letter under the door. Satisfied, he quickly got up and made his way back to his car, truly content for the first time that evening. Humming, he started the car and quickly pulled away. "You'll have a surprise waiting for you when you wake up in the morning, Angela." The man said as he quickly made his way home. "I hope you like the message I left for you." He said chuckling.   
  
  
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It was around 1:00 p.m. when Angela Boscorelli finally crawled out of bed. She sighed as she sleepily made her way into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make her morning coffee. She couldn't believe that she had slept in so late and chastised herself. She didn't know why but for some reason she had problems falling asleep the night before. She had found herself on edge and jittery, the slightest noise causing her to jump. She yawned as she grabbed her coat and put it on over her pajamas and opened her appartment door.   
  
She made her way down the stairs to the lobby and used her key to get her mail. She quickly scanned the various bills and was about to make her way upstairs when she saw an envelope pushed in the corner of the lobby near the door. She walked towards the trampled piece of paper and saw her name scrawled on it. She cursed the tenants and their inability to put it in her box where it belonged instead of stepping all over it. She bent down and picked up the plain paper and made her way back to her apartment. She quickly made her way into the kitchen, the kettle whistling, it's high-pitched shriek setting her nerves on edge. She unplugged it and poured the boiling water into her favorite mug. She stirred in the instant coffee and took a sip before opening the letter. She read it, her expression changing from one of curiosity to horror. As she got to the last line, the hot cup of coffee slipped from her suddenly numb fingers and shattered on the ground, the hot coffee spraying across the kitchen floor.   
  
  
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"So did you do anything interesting last night?" Faith Yokas asked her partner as they ate their lunch in the squad car.   
  
  
"Nah." Bosco said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Went by the bar a couple of nights ago and saw ma." He told her before taking another bite of his pizza.   
  
  
"How is your mom?" Faith asked, taking a sip of her coke.   
  
  
"Good. She's got a secret admirer." Bosco found himself telling her.   
  
  
"Really?" Faith said, delighted for the woman. "Good for her." She said smiling. She saw Bosco's concerned expression and felt her smile dissolve. "What?" She asked him.  
  
  
"Nothing." Bosco said, shrugging.   
  
  
"You don't have a nothing face, you have a something face. Don't tell me you're jealous?" She said, not quite believing that was the reason why Bosco looked less than thrilled for his mother.  
  
  
"No, I'm not jealous." Bosco said exasperated.   
  
  
"So what is it then? What's got you making that face?" She asked turning in her seat so she could see him better.   
  
  
"I am not making a face." He told her defensively.  
  
  
"Umm, yeah you are." She told him matter-of-factly. "Now, tell me why you're not thrilled that your mother has been getting some much needed and might I add deserved attention."  
  
  
"I don't know." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think it's so much that she has an admirer. I think what bugs me is that she has no idea who this guy is. I mean think about it, some psycho is sending her flowers and little notes and she's just sitting there with this stupid grin on her face. I mean doesn't she care that some stranger she doesn't even know is sending her these things." Bosco said, clearly frustrated.   
  
  
"Some psycho?" Faith said incredulously, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  
  
  
"What?" Bosco asked defensively, seeing her expression.  
  
  
"Nothing." She said casually. "I just think that this jealous and overprotective routine when it comes to your mom is kinda cute. Are all Italians like this when it comes to their mommies or is it just you?" She said teasingly.  
  
  
"Ha, ha. Very cute, Yokas." Bosco said. " I am not jealous or overprotective. I just want her to be careful. I mean who knows who this guy could be." Bosco said trying to justify his remarks. "Are you done yet?" He asked impatiently, eager to get back to work and drop the conversation they were having.  
  
  
"Yeah, I'm done." Faith said a huge grin spreading across her face at her partner's obvious discomfort.  
  
  
"And wipe that grin off your face." Bosco scowled as he put the car into gear, Faith's light laughter making him relax slightly as he drove away.   
  
  
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Angela sat numbly on the couch, holding the letter in her hand. It was crumpled and creased and she had no idea why she still possessed it for she had memorized it long ago. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see the angry red words before her, taunting her. She looked around the dim apartment, all the blinds were closed and the lights were off for fear that the person who had written the note might be watching her, lurking somewhere unseen. She glanced over at the VCR and saw that it was 5:00 p.m. Had she really been sitting in the dark for the past four hours? She shook her head before picking up the phone.   
  
  
"Hello?" The woman on the other end said.  
  
  
"Jessica, good I'm glad you're there." Angela said, her voice distant.  
  
  
"Ms. Boscorelli?" Jessica asked uncertainly. "Where are you? I've been getting everything ready for tonight. Why haven't you shown up yet?" She asked her boss.   
  
  
"Umm, I'm not going to be working tonight." Angela told her. She felt as though she were listening to her assistant from a far away place.   
  
  
"Are you sick? You sound kind of funny."  
  
  
"I'm afraid that I've come down with something rather suddenly. I won't be able to come in but you should be fine on your own." She told her, eager to disconnect the line.  
  
  
"Sure, no problem." Jessica said brightly, her perkiness grating on Angela's nerves. " I hope that you feel better soon."  
  
  
"Me too." Angela said quietly. "Me too." Then she promptly hung up the phone.   
  
  
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Angela sat in the apartment when she heard a loud thumping sound. She jumped startled and gasped in fear before realizing it was just the neighbours in the apartment next door. She looked at the clock, not having moved from her position on the couch, and saw that it was 11:15 p.m. She stared at the time in shock, not quite believing that she had spent the whole day sitting in the same spot. She took a deep breath and walked over to the phone. She knew there was no way she would be able to stay in the apartment alone, not with the lunatic who had sent her the note knowing where she lived, watching her every move. She shuddered at the knowledge that this man knew so much about her, a deep sense of violation sweeping through her. She reached for the phone, her hand shaking in the process. She took a deep breath before dialing the number of the one person she knew she could trust, the one person who would do everything in his power to protect her.   
  
  
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"You wanna get a coffee or something?" Faith asked her partner as they were changing. Although normally she would just want to go home and unwind she was feeling restless.   
  
  
"Umm, yeah sure. Why not?" Bosco said before his cell phone rang. He quickly reached for it. "Hello?" He said.  
  
  
"Maurice, honey?"  
  
  
"Mom?" Bosco said, his brow creased, noting that his mother sounded odd. "Are you okay? You sound funny. Where are you?" He asked, failing to hear the clatter and noise that could normally be heard at the bar. Instead, all he heard was dead silence on the other end of the line.  
  
  
"I'm at home." Angela told him.  
  
  
"What's wrong?" He asked her, automatically knowing that something was off, his mother being much too quiet.   
  
  
"Baby, can you come to the house." She asked, her voice trembling slightly.  
  
  
"Mom, what's wrong?" Bosco repeated, trying to keep his voice neutral but growing more frantic by the moment.  
  
  
"I'll explain when you get here." Angela told him before disconnecting the line. Bosco stood unmoving for a moment, the dial tone resounding in his ear, before finally hanging up the phone.  
  
  
"Bos? What's gong on?" Faith asked concerned, having heard his end of the conversation.  
  
  
"I don't know." Bosco told her as he quickly put on his jacket and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "I'm going to have to take a rain check on that coffee." Bosco told her as he quickly made his way out of the locker room, not waiting for a reply.  
  
  
"No problem." Faith said softly to the empty locker room, hoping that nothing was wrong with her partner's mother.   
  
  
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Angela jumped when she heard the doorbell ring. She hesitantly moved to the door before pressing the intercom button. "Who is it?" She said, her voice fearful.   
  
  
"Ma, its me." Bosco said his concern mounting by the second. Angela sighed in relief when she heard her son's strong voice.   
  
  
"Come on up, baby." She told him, quickly buzzing him in. She heard his footsteps as he jogged up the stairs. She looked through the eyehole, relief filling her at the sight of her eldest son standing before her. She quickly unlatched the door before taking him by the hand and pulling him inside, promptly shutting the door behind him, the sound of the deadlock being slipped into place making her feel better.   
  
  
"Ma? What's going on?" Bosco asked, taking in the pitch-black apartment. He reached his hand along the wall, blindly searching for the light switch. A moment later, the apartment was bathed in light. Bosco took in his mother's frazzled appearance and pale complexion and felt his concern mounting. "Ma, what's wrong?" He asked again for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour, hoping that this time he just might get the response that he so desperately craved from her.   
  
  
"Let's go into the kitchen." She told him as she quickly picked up a tattered letter from the coffee table. Bosco followed his mother into the kitchen and sat down across from her. Angela looked at her son, not quite sure where to begin. She took a deep breath before commencing. "Last night, when I came home I felt uneasy." She told him. " I felt as though I was being watched or something. When I looked down the street I saw a car drive by the house but I didn't pay much attention because it went by." She told him, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. "When I woke this morning - afternoon," She said, correcting herself, " I went to get the mail and found this on the floor." She told him, her hand shaking as she handed him the piece of paper.  
  
  
Bosco quietly took it from her. She watched her son as he read the letter, his jaw tightening in anger as he read the words scrawled before him.   
  
  
  
  
" Listen to me Angela because I'm only going to say this once. You and I are meant to be together and I will not fucking stand idly by while you flirt with someone right in front of my fucking face. You better stop what you are doing right now.   
  
I don't like to be teased Angela, I'm not just going to stand by and do nothing while you play me for a fool. That bastard will pay. I'll see to it. You'd better be careful or I'll have no choice but to teach you a lesson too and trust me you don't want that. I should just go over and rip your head off you traitorous bitch. I should gut you from the inside out. You're mine. Don't forget it, or next time you'll get more than a written warning."  
  
  
  
  
Bosco quickly looked up at his mother, rage reflecting in his eyes at the thought that some bastard would scare her this way. The urge to grab this man, whoever he was, and beat the crap out of him was overwhelming. "Do you have any idea who might have sent this to you?" Bosco asked, his calm voice in strong contrast to the rage he could feel bubbling inside of him.  
  
  
"No." Angela told her son tearfully. "I mean it must be the same person who's been sending me the flowers but I have no idea who that could be."  
  
  
"It's probably the same person who's car you saw making its way down your street." He told her quietly. "Did you see what kind of car it was?" Angela shook her head.   
  
  
"Maurice, this man knows where I live, where I work, my name." She said fearfully, "Baby, this man is obviously deranged. Honey, what's going to stop him from -"  
  
  
"Hey," Bosco said, preventing her from going on any further. The sight of his mother before him, so obviously distressed, making him angrier by the second. The urge to find the man who was causing her so much pain and suffering and rip his head off was getting stronger by the minute. "Ma, don't worry about this, okay? I'm not going to let some psycho hurt you, I promise." He said, taking a hold of her hand and giving it a light squeeze. Angela smiled sadly at her son, grateful to have someone as strong as him in her life.   
  
  
"I know you won't, baby." She told him squeezing his hand back.   
  
  
"Come on, let's get some of your things packed. You're going to stay with me until we find this sick son of a bitch." He said rising up from the kitchen table and making his way to his mother's bedroom. Angela followed behind, grateful that she wouldn't have to spend the night alone in her apartment.   
  
  
"Maurice, honey," Angela said causing her son to stop and turn around. "Thank you." She said quietly, gratitude clearly strewn across her face.  
  
  
"I won't let him hurt you." Bosco said intensely. "I promise." He said before turning around and turning on the light to his mother's room. He opened her closet door and pulled out her suitcase, quickly filling it with her clothes. The whole time, the only thought reverberating through his mind was that nobody was going to hurt his mother. Nobody. 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Twisted   
  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
Author's Note: First off, I'd just like to apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. I'm afraid that for the past couple of months I've strayed away from the Third Watch fandom. A lack of interest in both writing and reading fiction for the show has resulted in me staying away from it. However, I'm currently trying to renew my interest in TW and have decided to finish posting this story. Also, the fact that Fanfiction.net has been down for so long hasn't helped my cause. However, I'd just like to reassure everyone that this story is in fact complete and all that is left is for me to post up the remaining chapters and I'll try and do that as quickly as possible.   
  
Secondly, I'd just like to thank Andorian IcePrincess and CCA for taking the time to both read and review my last chapter. Knowing that there are at least two people who are still both interested in, and taking the time to read this piece, means a lot to me. You're interest and dedication is much appreciated :)   
  
When I first decided to write this story, I knew I wanted to do a stalker piece but I wasn't sure as to which characters I wanted to involve. Although at first I had wanted to write about Faith being stalked, I had decided to sway away from that notion. I felt at the time that it was too obvious. Then, the thought of it being Angela crossed my mind and I knew that it was perfect. I love Bosco's and Angela's relationship on the show and find it intriguing. Their relationship is so obviously strained and dysfunctional yet despite the awkwardness between them, Bosco obviously cares for his mother and she cares for him. Therefore, the concept of having Angela's life threatened by a psychotic individual had me intrigued. I wanted to see how Bosco would react if his mother's life were in danger. And, although I knew that a story focusing on Angela would not warrant as many reviews as a story revolving Faith and Bosco would, I felt that I had to go ahead and do it regardless, especially since I have a tendency for the unconventional from time to time. However, I never thought that I would have so few people reading this story. And, although that saddens me to some degree, I wouldn't change this story for the world because I really enjoyed writing it.   
  
It was a story that had come fairly easily for me. I had written it in a week, however, real-life and a dwindling lack of interest in the fandom has resulted in long delays between chapters and again I apologize for that. However, as I was saying, I loved writing this story and I immensely enjoyed getting into the mind of a psychopath and writing from his point-of-view as well as from Angela's and Bosco's. So, even though this story doesn't seem to be attracting the attention that I feel it deserves, I feel that it is one of the best I've written as well as the most fun.   
  
So, all of this is to say that I loved writing 'Twisted' and I apologize for the long period between postings. I promise not to do so again, now since this note seems to be longer than the chapter itself, lol, I will end it here. Once again, a heartfelt thanks to those who are still reading.   
  
  
Sincerely,   
  
  
  
Jewel   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The man sat in the bar; angered that Angela was nowhere in sight. He glanced at his watch and saw it was 11:30 p.m. He'd been sitting in the same spot for the past three hours hoping that she would show up. But, as the minutes continued to tick by, he knew that was not going to be the case. Anger washed over him as he thought about how Angela was purposely avoiding him. How dare she? He fumed his jaw tense. How dare she think that she can hide from me - avoid me, the bitch, after all I've done to ensure that we could be together? He said, thinking of the wrench he had killed so that they could live their lives together. If you think that you can avoid me Angela you're gravely mistaken, the man thought as he quickly got up and walked out of the bar into the cover of darkness. He got into his car and pulled out onto the street, hurriedly making his way to Angela's apartment.   
  
  
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"Is that it?" Bosco asked his mom as he took in the large suitcase and carry on bag sitting by the front door.   
  
  
"I think so." Angela said uncertainly, trying to remember if she was forgetting anything of importance.   
  
  
"If you forget anything we can always come back for it tomorrow." He told his mother, instinctively knowing what she was thinking. Angela smiled sadly at her son's ability to read her mind. "Ready?" He asked her, hating to see her so obviously distraught.   
  
  
"Yeah." Angela said, trying to put on a brave face for her son. She bent down and swung the carry on bag on her shoulder. Bosco quickly bent down and grasped her suitcase in his hand. He closed the light behind them and waited patiently while his mother locked the front door. He put his hand on his mother's arm as they made their way to his car. He placed her suitcase in the trunk of the Mustang as his mother climbed inside. A second later, he crawled in beside her and started the car, quickly making his way back to his apartment. Both of their minds so preoccupied with who could be sending the threatening letters, neither of them noticed the car trailing behind them at a safe distance.   
  
  
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"What the hell is going on? Where are they going?" The man muttered to himself as he watched the blue Mustang two blocks ahead of him. His thoughts kept going back to the suitcases he had seen the young man walk out with and place in the trunk of his car. "Are they going on a trip?" The man asked himself frantically. "He's taking her away from me. He can't. I won't allow it." The man said, talking to himself, his panic mounting by the second at the possibility that he might never see her again. "I won't let him take her away from me. She's mine." He could feel his blood pressure rising, his face flushed. He made sure to keep them in his sights, afraid to take his eyes off of them for even a second for fear of losing them. He put his foot on the gas, accelerating lightly, trying to keep up with the Mustang but not being too obvious. He had to know where they were going. He had to stop them.  
  
  
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Bosco pulled the car into his parking space. He sat there for a second before popping open the trunk. He got out of the car and took out his mother's bags. He made sure the car was locked, the alarm activated, before leading her inside.   
  
  
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The man drove down the street and saw the blue Mustang parked in front of an apartment complex. He continued down the street and parked his car a little ways before heading back on foot to where the man lived. He stood across the street, hidden in the shadows, before fixing cold eyes on the building before him. Although relieved that Angela and that son of a bitch she was with weren't leaving anywhere as he had first surmised, the knowledge that she was moving in with him, or at least staying with the man, was enough to make him angry. His body tensed at the knowledge that Angela was purposely trying to avoid him. Angered that his note had not made her heed his warning as it was intended to, but rather pushed her further into the arms of the man he wanted to rip apart with his bare hands. He cursed himself, Angela, and her lover before vowing to rid of him. Once he had done that, Angela would have no choice but to admit that they belonged together.  
  
  
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Bosco quickly unlocked the front door and ushered his mother inside. He turned on the lights and made sure to lock the door behind him. He brought her bags into his room, placing them by the closet before going back into the living room to join her. "Do you want anything to drink?" Her asked her nervously, running his hand through his hair, not quite sure what to say to her. Angela shook her head before sitting on the couch, still in disbelief over what was happening. Bosco walked over to the window and looked outside trying to see if there was anyone suspicious lurking about. He stayed that way for a few minutes before closing the blinds, not having seen anyone. He could feel his mother watching him and turned around to face her. "There's no one there." He reassured her before sitting on the couch next to her. They sat together in silence, before Bosco took a deep breath, the silence unnerving to him. "Look, ma. I know you're worried and scared but don't be, okay? I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not ever." He told her. Angela stared at him; her eyes brimming with unshed tears, the stress finally getting to her.   
  
  
"Baby, I don't understand." She told him, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I don't understand why that man would write those things. I mean what did I ever do to make him hate me? Was it something I said? Something I did, because I just don't-" Angela began before being cut off.  
  
  
"Hey, I want you to listen to me and I want you to listen to me good, okay? Because I'm only going to say this once. You did nothing wrong, ma. This is not your fault. There are a lot of sick bastards out there in the world, I don't know why they do the things they do or say the things they say. If we're gong to sit here and try to think of why this psycho is obsessed and wants to hurt you, then we're going to be sitting here for a really long time." Bosco said, his jaw tense, his voice strong. "I don't know why people do the things they do, but I do know one thing. You did nothing wrong. What's happening here is not your fault and I don't ever want to hear you blame yourself again, are we clear? And I'm going to tell you one more thing. I will not let this guy hurt you. I promise you that."   
  
  
Angela gazed fondly at her son, pride washing over her that she was blessed to have someone as strong as him in her life. She knew that she hadn't always been there in the past when he had needed her, that she had failed him numerous times when he was growing up. She was so grateful that despite all of her faults, he was still by her side, willing to protect her. "Oh, Maurice baby, I love you so much, you know that right?" Angela said as tears gathered in her eyes.   
  
  
"I love you too, ma." Bosco told her. Angela enveloped her son in her arms, grateful to have his strong presence by her side.   
  
  
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The man stood in the safety of the shadows, his cold fixed eyes on the apartment window of the man he despised with every fiber of his being. He had seen the man look outside, had watched his form framed by the window as his eyes had darted along the street. He had promptly backed further into the shadows, a thrill going through him when he realized that the man had failed to see him, even though he was only so many feet away. He fixed unblinking eyes on the window before him, just making out the two silhouettes, clearly making out Angela's form. What he saw next made his blood boil. He could see the silhouettes embrace and pure, hot rage flowed through him. Visions assaulted him of Angela and her lover in a passionate embrace, their lips locked, hands caressing one another, their naked bodies writhing in pleasure. Vision upon vision assaulted him as he tried vainly to block them from his mind. "Stop it!" The man screamed into the deserted night as he banged his fist against the brick wall of the building he was leaning against. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it." The man muttered over and over again as he bashed his hand against the brick wall, oblivious to the pain. Finally, he pulled his hand away, seeing how the blood oozed from the raw and abraded knuckles even in the dark. He slowly opened and closed his hand a few times, wincing slightly at the pain. He fixed murderous eyes onto the apartment before him. " I will kill you, you son of a bitch for touching what's mine. And then Angela, I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson. You'll learn first hand what it's like to cross me, you traitorous bitch. 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Twisted   
  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
  
  
  
"Hey." Bosco mumbled as he walked into the kitchen the next day wearing sweat pants and his NYPD T-shirt.   
  
  
"Good morning to you, too." Angela said wryly, already dressed. She stood over the stove making eggs. Bosco glanced at the clock and saw it was 10:00 am.   
  
  
"How come you're up already?" He asked her, stifling a yawn. "Its early, you should still be sleeping."  
  
  
"I could say the same for you." Angela said as she scrambled the eggs.  
  
  
"Wasn't tired." He said simply, even though it was an obvious lie. Dark circles could be seen under his eyes.   
  
  
"You always were a horrible liar." Angela told him, smiling briefly before turning back to the stove.  
  
  
"Guess that's why I became a cop." He said jokingly, even though his heart wasn't in it.   
  
  
"I hope you still like your eggs scrambled." Angela told him spooning them onto two plates and setting them on the table.   
  
  
"You didn't have to make me breakfast." He told her although secretly pleased that she had.   
  
  
"I'm your mother. It's my job to make you breakfast. Now sit down and eat before your eggs get cold." She told him as she sat down. He watched her take a few bites before sitting down beside her. They ate in silence, each not quite sure what to say to the other.  
  
  
"How'd you sleep?" Bosco asked her at an attempt to strike up a conversation.  
  
  
"Good." Angela said simply, even though the truth was she had barely slept a wink.  
  
  
"Listen, I have to go to work today, but you should be safe here, okay? So don't worry. I'll call during my shift to see if you're okay. Here's my cell phone number," He said jotting it down on a piece of paper. He knew she already knew the number but it made him feel better to do so. " Call me if anything. I'll be home around midnight. If not, I'll call to let you know..." He trailed off, trying to remember if there was anything else of importance. "Don't go outside, and keep the blinds closed just in case. I doubt this guy knows where you are but I don't want to take a chance. Also, don't answer the phone, let the machine pick it up unless it's me." Angela nodded her head in silence. Bosco stared at her torn. "Ma, if you want I can always call in sick -"  
  
  
"No." Angela said firmly. "No, go to work. I'll see you later on tonight.  
  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked worried about leaving her alone for so long.  
  
  
"I'll be fine." Angela told him although inwardly she wasn't so sure.  
  
  
"I'm off tomorrow. We'll sit down and figure this out, okay? In fact, when I get home we'll fill out a report, all right?" Bosco said as he glanced at the clock.   
  
  
"Sure." Angela said as she began to clear away the plates.  
  
  
"Leave them. I'll do them when I get home."   
  
  
"I don't mind." His mother said as she put them in the sink.  
  
  
"I'm going to take my shower and then I have to go but I'll see if I can stop by on my break, okay?" He said, getting up from his seat.  
  
  
"You don't have to do that." Angela said, not wanting to put her son in any more trouble.  
  
  
"It's no trouble." Bosco told her before heading to the shower. Angela watched him leave, grateful to have him in her life.   
  
  
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"Hey." Faith said when she saw Bosco make his way into the locker room actually on time for once. "What's wrong?"  
  
  
"Nothing. Why?" He said defensively as he pulled open his locker and shrugged out of his jacket.  
  
  
"I don't know. You're never on time. Figured something must have happened." Faith joked. She took in Bosco's serious expression and ragged-looking appearance and frowned. "Hey are you okay? She asked him as she closed her locker, already in uniform.  
  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine, why?" Bosco asked, for some reason not wanting to tell Faith about his mother's problems.  
  
  
"Nothing." She said simply, wanting to change the subject. "Hey what happened with your mom last night? You sounded kinda freaked over the phone. I hope nothing's wrong." She asked concerned.  
  
  
"Just a problem at the bar. Nothing to worry about." He said, strapping on his bulletproof vest.  
  
  
"That's good to hear." Faith said but for some reason she didn't quite believe him. She knew something was up but she also knew that pushing Bosco wasn't the way to get any answers. She'd just have to wait until he felt ready to confide in her, until then she'd just have to be patient. "You're gonna be late if you don't hurry." She said before walking out of the locker room.  
  
  
Bosco stared at her retreating form, wondering whether or not he should have confided in her. Although he knew that Faith would do everything she could to help him, something was preventing him from seeking her help. He shook his head, trying to clear it before closing his locker and making his way out the door. I can do this on my own, he thought stubbornly as he took his seat beside his partner. I will do this on my own; he vowed his jaw tense.  
  
  
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You're in a hurry." Faith remarked as she saw Bosco practically run into the locker room and strip out of his clothes.   
  
  
"Yeah." He mumbled, pulling his shirt over his head.  
  
  
"What? You're late for a date for something?" Faith asked, opening her locker.  
  
  
"I just have some stuff I have to do. What, you got a problem with that?" He snapped as he swung his locker shut. Faith stood there for a moment stunned.   
  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked him when she finally regained her voice.  
  
  
"Nothing." Bosco said, sorry that he had responded so harshly. The lack of sleep and constant worrying about his mother during his shift had made his already low patience level even lower than usual.  
  
  
"Look, Faith. I'm sorry, okay? Its just... it's been a long day and I'm in a hurry. I have some place that I have to be." He told her awkwardly, apologies not coming easily for the hotheaded officer.   
  
  
"Yeah, sure." Faith said, not quite sure how to respond herself. "Don't let me stop you." She told him as she placed her weapon on the shelf before her.   
  
  
Bosco opened his mouth, wondering if he should confide in Faith but stubbornness caused him to close it. As much as he trusted Faith, for some reason he couldn't find it in himself to confide in her. "I'll see you later." He said simply before walking out the door without waiting for a reply.  
  
  
"Yeah." Faith said softly into the empty room.  
  
  
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The man waited impatiently in the alleyway of the man's apartment complex, securely concealed by the shadows. He knew that his Angela was hiding in the man's apartment, waiting for him to return for her. He briefly considered just going in there and taking her but quickly decided against it. As much as he wanted her, and he always wanted her, he wanted the man dead. For once he was dead, Angela would have no choice but to realize that she was meant for him. He had to get rid of the threat that was hanging over his head - over his and Angela's relationship. Once he rid himself of the bastard who had blinded her to him, and made sure Angela learned a lesson, they would be able to pursue their relationship. The man impatiently glanced at his watch once more, the letters glowing softly in the black murkiness surrounding him before staring out into the street. Sweat prickled on his forehead, his body tense as he waited for the man to show, for this was it. This was the moment he had been dreaming about for so long now. This was the day that the bastard would die and Angela would be his forever.   
  
  
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"Ma, I'm on my way." Bosco said, the cell phone held tightly to his ear with one hand while the other gripped the steering wheel in front of him.   
  
  
"Okay, baby. Be careful." Angela said worriedly as she paced inside of her son's apartment.   
  
  
"I'll see you soon." Bosco said before hanging up the phone and placing it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. He put both hands on the wheel and pressed down on the accelerator, eager to get home.  
  
  
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The man sighed in relief as he saw the blue Mustang pull up in front of him. He watched the man quickly step out of the car and tightened his hand on the weapon he clenched between his hands. It's show time, he thought to himself.  
  
  
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Bosco made his way to the front door of his apartment complex, eager to see his mother. In his haste, he failed to notice the pair of hands that quickly yanked him into the alleyway located on the side of his building. A loud grunt escaped from his lips as he was slammed into the brick façade of the apartment building. He quickly retaliated trying to land a right hook. The man moved his head, however, the blow grazing harmlessly off the side of his face. The man's eyes hardened in anger at the thought that the pathetic excuse of a man before him had attempted to fight back. He pummeled the young man in the ribs and stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of him. Bosco gasped. He attempted to straighten up but before he could he was knocked to the ground. He saw his assailant reach for something but was unable to distinguish what it was as he was roughly turned over. His attacker straddled him and a moment later he knew without a doubt what the man held in his hands.   
  
  
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The man calmly held the rope taunt between his hands before wrapping it around the young man's neck, effectively cutting off his air supply. The young man bucked beneath him, desperately trying to break free but to no avail. The man's face broke out in a mad grin, his eyes glittering insanely in the dark.  
  
  
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Angela Boscorelli stood pacing by the window, wondering what was keeping her son. She took a deep breath and peeked through the blinds; surprised to see his Mustang parked in front of the building. She squinted, trying to see if her son was in the car. From where she was standing, the car appeared to be empty. Frowning, she quickly reached for the cordless phone by the door and dialed her son's cell phone number. Her frown deepened as the only sound greeting her on the other end was a ringing sound. Where the hell are you Maurice? Angela wondered before disconnecting the line. She took a deep breath before unlatching the door. She made her way down the stairs and to the front door. She pulled it open and stepped outside into the frigid night air, the phone still clutched tightly in her hand.  
  
  
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Bosco struggled feebly against his assailant, his face red from the lack of oxygen to his brain. He desperately clutched at the rope, wincing in pain as it bit into his neck, crushing his windpipe. He bucked against his attacker, trying to knock him off but unable to do so, the man too strong. Oh God, Bosco thought frantically to himself, I'm going to die. It can't get any worse than this. A moment later it did.   
  
  
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Angela slowly stepped through the front door. From where she stood she could clearly see her son's empty car parked before her. She hesitated; the cordless still clutched firmly in her hand before leaving the safety of where she was standing. "Maurice?" Angela called out tentatively her voice instantly swallowed up by the night air. She walked up to the Mustang and peeked inside. Confusion filled her as she wondered where her son might have gone. She quickly turned around, fearful that her stalker might be watching her and hurriedly made her way towards the building. Her head down, she hit redial attempting to call her son's cell phone one more time. She jumped when she heard a phone ringing nearby. She stopped, concentrating on the sound, realizing that it was coming from the alleyway beside the building. Angela stood outside, debating whether or not to go back in before taking a deep breath and slowly making her way towards the direction of where the ringing was coming from.   
  
  
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Bosco struggled with his assailant, desperately trying to stay conscious, but he could feel himself losing the battle. The dimness was quickly making its way into his vision, threatening to overpower him at any given moment. Bosco blinked fiercely, trying in vain to clear his vision. What he saw next made his heart stop.  
  
  
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"Maurice?"  
  
  
The man continued to place pressure on his victim when all of a sudden his prayers were answered. He could see Angela standing at the entrance to the alleyway, her silhouette framed by the moonlight. Pleased at how well his plan was turning out, he smiled madly, his heart soaring at his luck.  
  
  
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Bosco stared in shock at the sight before him. "Ma." Bosco tried to say hoping to warn his mother, to prevent her from entering the alley but his vocal cords were swollen and all that he was able to utter in warning was a whisper. A second later, the rope tightened one last time and then everything went black.  
  
  
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"Maurice?" Angela called out, her voice timid, as she stood before the alleyway. She desperately tried to make out the shadows before her. She sighed when she wasn't able to see anything. She was just about to turn around when she thought she heard him. She quickly turned around and once more took a deep breath before entering the alley.   
  
  
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The man quickly rose from his position, his victim lying before him. He could just barely make out the love of his life as he saw her slowly advancing towards him. Adrenaline coursed through him as he took her in. He pressed himself up against the wall, the rope in his hands, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He sighed in pleasure. It was time.  
  
  
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Angela slowly inched her way into the alley trying to make out whether her son was there or not. "Maurice?" She called out again when she tripped over something. She gasped in pain as she fell hard onto the concrete ground, the phone skidding. She winced as she sat up on her knees. She looked down, silently cursing whatever she had tripped over when her breath caught in her throat. "Oh my God." Angela cried out softly as she took in her son's still form, lying face down before her. She backed away in horror, scared to find out whether he was dead or not. She quickly looked around, trying to locate the cordless, to call the police, cursing herself for not having done it in the first place. She was just about to rise, having spotted it, when something hit her on the side of the head. A loud crack resounded as her head moved back with the force of the blow, hitting the brick wall in the process. She slumped unconscious, oblivious to everything around her.   
  
  
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The man smiled down before him, as he took in the peaceful form of his lover. Quickly, he reached for the rope lying before him, the rope he had used to kill her lover with, and started to bind her hands with it. He stopped suddenly when he saw a car park outside of the building, directly in his line of vision. He watched as a man got out and quickly made his way to the entrance. Satisfied that he had not been seen, he quickly bound Angela's hands, in his haste not securing them as well as he normally would have, the possibility of being caught far too great. He waited until he heard the front door being closed, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out another rope, tying Angela's feet together. He gazed at her lovingly before him, marveling at how peaceful and angelic she looked. He quickly shook his head, attempting to clear it before gathering her in his arms. He made his way to the back of the building where he had parked his car earlier and gently lowered Angela onto the back seat, placing a blanket over her to conceal her. Humming, he closed the door before sliding into the driver's seat, pleased that his plan had gone over so well. 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Twisted   
  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.   
  
  
Rating: R for language and violence  
  
  
Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;)  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
  
  
  
  
Angela moaned as she slowly regained consciousness. Her head throbbed painfully and she could feel bile rise up from within. She grimaced, swallowing it down, desperately trying to keep it at bay. For a second she wondered where she was, having forgotten, but soon vivid images assaulted her. Visions of her son, as he lay face down on the ground, and then the silhouette of her attacker. She bolted upright; her eyes popping open in fear. Her first thought was that she had to be sure her son was all right. The sudden movement however caused her head to lurch and she groaned in pain, as her head felt as though it was being split in two. She tried to lift her hand, attempting to hold her head in it and was surprised when her other hand rose up as well. Blinking back the dizziness that was threatening to overpower her, she focused on her hands, realizing for the first time that they were bound together. Fear stabbed at her as she finally took in her surroundings. She saw that she was in a dimly lit room. Squinting, she gazed around, taking in the small bedroom, trying to make out its contents as best she could. She looked down and saw that she was lying on a bed. She was just about to try and get up when her attacker stepped out of the shadows.   
  
  
"Hello, Angela." The man said softly as he gazed upon her. "I was hoping that you'd wake up soon. We have so much time to make up for."  
  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Angela cried out, failing to recognize him. "What the hell have you done with my Maurice?!" She shouted hysterically.   
  
  
The man's gaze hardened, his jaw clenched, as he glared at her. "Your Maurice?" The man said coldly. "Your Maurice?!" He shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room causing Angela to jump at the sound. "He's not yours, Angela. He was never yours! Don't you see that? You're mine, Angela. You and I are meant to be together." His loud voice boomed, sending shivers of fear through her body. "You're better off without him. Don't you see?" He said softly, "We're perfect for one another, Angela. He was disillusioning you, trying to keep us apart. But I couldn't let that happen. Ever since I'd first laid eyes on you I knew we were meant to be together, just like I know that deep down you feel it too. He's been blinding you, he's brainwashed you, but you don't have to worry about him anymore, my love. Don't you see?" He pleaded his voice desperate. "You and I can finally be together, just like we're supposed to be." Angela stared at the man, icy tendrils of fear gripping her as she took in the lunatic before her. Dread filled her as she took in his words.   
  
  
"What did you do to Maurice?" She asked him, her voice small and trembling, scared to hear the answer. She held her breath, saying a silent prayer that her son was all right. The man's eyes hardened in anger as he once more took in his soulmate. Why can't she see that he's not important, he wondered?   
  
  
"He's dead." The man said, his voice lacking any emotion.  
  
  
"No." Angela said, shaking her head violently back and forth, refusing to believe what the man was telling her. "No, you're wrong." Angela said, her voice sounding small and lost. "You're wrong. He's fine. Maurice is fine." She repeated, refusing to accept what the man was telling her.  
  
  
"No. He's not!" The man screamed as he stalked towards her. He roughly grabbed her by the upper arms, his hands digging into the soft flesh. "He's dead, Angela. He's dead. I killed him with my own hands." He said, his face livid, his eyes wild.  
  
  
"No. Oh God, please no." Angela sobbed as the reality of what the man before her was saying finally sunk in. She felt cold inside, empty, knowing that her son was gone - dead because of her. Sobs racked her body as she hung her head down in sorrow. She gasped for breath as a sob caught in her throat.   
  
  
The man stared down before him stunned at her violent reaction to the news that he had killed this Maurice person. Why the hell did she care so much? They were not meant for each other, didn't she see that? He shook her violently back and forth, trying in vain to knock some sense into her, to make her see the truth. That this Maurice character was nothing to her, but it was all in vain. As he watched her sobbing before him, rage filled him and he quickly swung his arm back, backhanding her across the face. Angela's head swung back from the blow, as a small trail of blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth. She stared at her captor in shock, her eyes glazed over from pain and sorrow. The man stared back at her, shocked at his own response, not that he had hit her, but that he had felt pleasure in doing so. A thought hit him and he desperately tried to shoo it away, not wanting to entertain the possibility for even a brief second. However, the possibility would not leave him alone. He gazed at her for a moment, before backing away. She's not the one, the voice said in his head, the one he had heard numerous times in his past.   
  
  
"Yes she is!" The man said furiously, his teeth clenched in anger. Angela stared at him in fear, not understanding what the man was talking about.  
  
  
You know she's not. She's an impostor just like the others.  
  
  
"She is not!" The man yelled as he reached his hands up and covered his ears, trying in vain to prevent the voice from assaulting him.   
  
  
She lied just like all the others. She played you, you stupid, pathetic excuse for a human being. You can't do anything right. You should never have been born.  
  
  
"Shut up!!!" The man yelled, his eyes squeezed shut.   
  
  
She used you, you stupid fool! She used you just like all the others. You're pathetic you know that?  
  
  
"I am not." The man hissed through clenched teeth, trying desperately to make the voice go away.   
  
  
Yes you are, the voice said angry. You never should have been born, you worthless little piece of shit. The world would have been better of without you.   
  
  
"Shut up!" The man shouted, his voice taking on a high-pitched air.  
  
  
You know what you have to do now, don't you?  
  
  
"No." The man whispered, not wanting to hear the answer he already knew.  
  
  
You have to kill her; it's the only way.  
  
  
"I won't do it." The man said feebly.  
  
  
You have to. It's the only option, the voice said.  
  
  
The man opened his eyes and gazed down sadly at the frightened woman bound before him. He opened his mouth a few times, in a feeble attempt to say something. A moment later, he bolted up the stairs, slamming the hatch to the cellar behind him, in his haste forgetting to lock it. A moment later, the front door slammed shut and he quickly made his way to his car, desperately needing to clear his head.  
  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~   
  
  
Angela stared at the man in terror and confusion as she heard him arguing with himself. Fear gripped her as she realized that she was going to die at the hands of the madman before her. She gasped in relief as she saw him run out of the room, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, she heard the front slam shut and she sobbed in relief as the realization that the man was gone - at least for the time being. She sank back down on the bed in relief before struggling to sit back up again. This was her chance, her only chance, to get out of this hellhole alive. 


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Twisted 

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know. 

Rating: R for language and violence 

Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;) 

* * *

Chapter 9

Angela squirmed towards the end of the bed and swung her legs over the side. She struggled against the rope that was binding her hands before her. She tried to undo the knots but was unable to do so. Nervousness overwhelmed her at the possibility that the deranged man could be back at any given moment. She brought her arms up, attempting to use her teeth to undo the bonds. She tried in vain for several minutes; finally stopping when she saw it was useless. She cried out in frustration, her voice radiating throughout the room. "Dammit, come on!" Angela said desperately as tears of frustration sprang from her eyes. Angry with herself for crying, she quickly reached her hands up and wiped away the tears that were streaming down her face. "I can do this," she said out loud her voice determined. "I can do this," she repeated. 

She looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything lying around that she could use to free herself. Finally, her eyes locked on the lit candle in the corner of the room and she sighed in relief. Angela slowly rolled off of the bed. Her body made a thudding sound as she came to rest on the cold, bare floor. Sweat rolled down her face as she slowly dragged her body towards the night table that the candle was perched on. She sighed in relief as she finally found herself directly below it, She quickly brought herself up to her knees, before lifting her hands up and holding them above the flame. She watched as the flame caught, slowly burning through the rope. She cried out as the flame licked too close, burning her wrist. She quickly pulled her arms apart and sobbed in relief as the rope snapped apart. She carefully touched her wrist in the spot where she had burnt it and winced in pain. Looking down, she quickly untied the rope binding her feet together. She shakily made her way to her feet, a wave of dizziness threatening to make her lose consciousness. She squeezed her eyes shut; desperately trying to say conscious, knowing that this was her only chance of getting away. On shaky legs, she made her way to the stairs leading up to the hatch. Angela closed her eyes once more, saying a silent prayer that it wasn't locked, before using all her body weight and pushing against it. She cried out in relief when the door gave way causing her to stagger. 

Cautiously, she raised her head, looking into what appeared to be a basement. Making sure that the man wasn't lurking nearby, she quickly made her way into the room. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to make out its features. After a few minutes, her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could see a door in the corner of the room, a light shinning beneath it. Her heart pounding in her ears, she slowly pushed it open, wincing as it loudly creaked open. Expecting the man to come running towards her at any given moment, she held her breath. After a few seconds, she stepped through the doorway and saw that she was in the middle of a kitchen. Looking around, she quickly made her way through the archway. From she was standing, she could clearly see the front door. Disbelief hit her at the realization that she was escaping so easily. She threw the door open and ran down the street, desperately searching for a pay phone or a restaurant, someplace where she would be safe and could call for help. As she ran down the street, she prayed that she wouldn't run into her assailant. 

* * *

The man finally stopped his car, wondering where he was. He quickly glanced around confusion registering on his face, before recognition finally set in. He quickly parked the car and sat there for a few minutes, his mind racing. 

You know I'm right, the voice said, grating on his nerves. 

"I said shut up," the man hissed, trying desperately to remain calm. 

She's not the one. You saw how she reacted. She was upset for him. She loves him, not you. 

"I said shut up," the man said weakly, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. 

Crying is not going to do anything, the voice chastised. 

"I was so sure," the man whispered pitifully. 

We all make mistakes. The voice said gently. You have to fix it now. 

"I know," the man said sadly, gazing down at his hands. 

Do you really? the voice asked, not believing him. 

"Yes," the man said, starting the car. His voice calm, his strength and reasoning returning, " I have to kill her." 

* * *

Angela sighed in relief as she saw a pay phone next to a corner store. She quickly ran up to it. Placing the receiver to her ear, she quickly dialed. As the phone rang she suddenly realized what she had done as tears filled her eyes. She was just about to hang up when she heard the most amazing sound in the world on the other end of the line. 

* * *

A faint ringing sound could be heard as Bosco lay face down on the ground, in between consciousness and unconsciousness. He blinked his eyes open and coughed violently. He cried out as the movement caused his ribs to ache and his throat to burn. He slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees, his head hanging down as he desperately tried not to vomit. He swallowed several times, causing his tender throat to burn painfully. Tears dotted his eyes as he slowly brought his hand up to touch his neck. He gasped in pain as his hand made contact with the raw and bruised skin. He sat back on his heels and quickly looked around trying to recall how he had gotten to where he was. He saw his car parked before him and quickly looked around. A second later, he remembered everything. It was at that moment the ringing of the telephone finally penetrated his thoughts. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket and opened it, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't hang up. He cleared his throat painfully before speaking. "Hello?" He croaked into the phone, his throat on fire. 

* * *

"Maurice?" His mother asked in disbelief. "Oh, my God, Maurice honey, please tell me that's you," she said, sobs of relief racking her body. Her son was alive. 

"Ma?" Bosco said hoarsely as he stumbled to his feet, grasping the wall to steady himself. "Ma, where are you?" he whispered into the phone, panicked. 

"Oh, Maurice it was horrible. He's insane. He told me you were dead. I didn't know what to think. I was so sure..." his mother said, trailing off. 

"Ma? Ma where are you?" Bosco asked as he shakily made his way out of the alley. 

"I was in his house but I got away. Maurice, he's such a sick man." 

Bosco could feel his panic mounting by the second as he took in his mother's words. "Were are you now?" he asked her, tears stinging his eyes from the pain in his throat. He fished his car keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car door. 

"Umm..." Angela said, looking around desperately. "I'm at Amsterdam and West 57th Street," she said quickly. 

"Hang on, I'm coming," Bosco said as he started the car. He quickly left the parking lot, tired squealing. "Ma, I'm going to call the police, okay? I need you to find a safe place to hide, all right? Are there any shops nearby?" 

"There's a corner store," she told him, glancing over her shoulder. 

"Good, stay in there. I'm coming. Everything's going to be fine. I'm gonna hang up now and call the police, okay?" he asked, although in reality he wanted nothing more than to be able to stay on the phone with her, to hear her voice and know that she was going to be okay. 

"Okay," his mother said her voice small and frightened. It scared him to hear her that way. "Maurice, please hurry," she said before disconnecting the line. 

* * *

Bosco quickly tore down the streets of Manhattan trying desperately to reach his mother in time. He silently prayed that the cops would get to her and rescue her before the madman returned, because if not she was a sitting duck. He quickly turned a corner, tires squealing in protest and clenched his teeth as a shooting pain tore through his abdomen. He ignored it; his eyes fixed on the road ahead, which stretched out for miles. "Come on." Bosco whispered out loud as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Hurry," he said, tearing down the street. 


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Twisted 

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know. 

Rating: R for language and violence 

Feedback: Well, it will make me write faster ;) 

Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I have no excuse except for laziness. Thanks to everyone who reviewed this story, your interest and support meant a lot :) 

Dedication: To CCA for encouraging me to write :) To Starbright for being such a devote follower, and lasty to Klariss31 for emailing me today and asking when I'd post the next chapter :) 

* * *

Chapter 10

The man quickly jumped out of his car, his gait purposeful, as he stalked towards the front door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and frowned in surprise as the front door slowly creaked open on its own. Confusion settled onto his features as he tried to recall whether or not he had locked it before running out of the house. He slowly stepped through the doorway and cautiously scanned the hallway and living room, trying to see if anything was amiss. A horrible thought crossed his mind, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. "She couldn't have," he said although his voice was uncertain. He quickly tore through the kitchen and walked over to the door that led to the basement. He saw it lying open before him and shock settled over him. He stood that way for a second, stunned, before tearing down the stairs. He saw the hatch to the cellar lying open and knew that it was true. "How?!" the man shouted, his voice vibrating throughout the empty room. "How did she get away?" he yelled. 

Who cares how you moron, the voice said angrily, once again assaulting his thoughts. Find her and kill her you idiot. 

The man stood in the middle of the basement lost, never having had something like this happen to him in the past. Nobody had ever gotten away from him before. "How do I find her?" he asked pitifully. 

Look for her you moron. She couldn't have gotten far. Now! The voice shouted when the man failed to move. 

The voice jolted him back into action. He ran outside towards his car and hopped in, desperate to find her. Anger started to seep into his being, at the knowledge that the traitorous bitch had run away from him. He quickly tore down the street, his knuckles white from the death grip he had on the wheel, envisioning that it was Angela's throat instead. "You're going to die tonight you whore!" the man shouted his face scarlet. He seethed in anger as he turned the corner, his eyes darting back and forth, on the lookout for her. "But, first you'll learn a lesson in what it's like to defy me," he hissed. 

* * *

Angela ran towards the convenience store and stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed for the first time that the windows were boarded up and the interior was dark. "Oh, God," Angela whispered as reality hit her. She had nowhere to hide. She quickly turned around, searching for a sanctuary where she could stay until the police or her son arrived, but she saw nothing. She was about to run back towards the convenience store, to find some way to get inside and hide, but what she saw next made her freeze on the spot like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The man was driving towards he and from what she could tell, he had seen her as well. 

* * *

The man watched, surprised as he saw her standing right before him. He grinned madly, ecstatic that he had found her so easily. He quickly stepped on the gas and drove towards her. He saw her start to run and swung his car around, effectively cutting off her path. He saw the fear in her eyes as she stared at him and his smile grew wider. "That's right, be scared bitch," the man said as he quickly got out of the car. "If I were you, I'd be very afraid right about now." 

"Oh, God," Angela said as the man jumped out of the car within arms length of her. 

"That's right, Angela. Pray," the man said chuckling before grabbing her. He pulled her roughly towards him and swore when she hit him in the face. His head swung back but his grip on her stayed firm. "You'll pay for that, whore!" he shouted before bringing one of his hands back and punching her in the face, the loud cracking sound that followed when his knuckles made contact with her cheekbone, causing him to grin. He saw her stagger from the force of the blow, the only thing keeping her upright was the grip of his hand on her forearm. 

* * *

Angela staggered under the force of the blow, tears welling up in her eyes from the pain. Dread started to settle over her at the possibility that she would die tonight before help came for her. She was just about to give up hope when the sound of sirens greeted her. She sobbed in relief at the knowledge that her salvation had finally arrived. Seconds later, she saw the squad car and thanked the Lord. 

* * *

The man stood shocked as he saw the police car come tearing down the street towards him. "It can't be," the man said as he looked around, hoping that it was all a dream. A second later, his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the blue Mustang come flying towards him, right behind the police car. He glanced down at Angela, wondering what to do. A second later, he knew. He hit her once more, and roughly grabbed her, noting that the second blow had dazed her even further, and threw her into the car. He quickly slid in after her and took off down the street, the police in tow. 

* * *

As Angela's head swung back with the force of the second blow, she thought she saw her son's car heading towards her, however her relief was short-lived as her attacker threw her into his car and sped off down the street. Angela blinked her eyes furiously, trying feebly to remain conscious even as the darkness that was creeping into her vision threatened to overpower her at any given moment. Oh, please Maurice; please help me, she thought. 

* * *

Bosco roared down the street after the car that had his mother in it. He quickly closed the gap between it and the RMP that was following it as it weaved between cars. He stared straight ahead, his jaw locked, as he watched the car before him. His sole thought that he had to save his mother. 

* * *

Angela watched in shock, still dazed, as the crazed man beside her drove recklessly in the early morning. Although in most cities the streets would be deserted at this time of night, in Manhattan that wasn't the case. Angela stared out of the windshield in fear as the man tried to dodge the police, weaving dangerously between cars. She saw him pick up speed as the police closed the gap between them. Finally, she found her voice. "You're not going to win, you know," Angela said softly as she focused on the man beside her. 

"Shut up, what the hell do you know, bitch," he hissed as he pressed down on the accelerator. 

"I know that you're not going to win. I know that the cops will catch you and send you to jail where you belong," she told him, her voice remarkably strong even though she was shaking inside. She ripped her eyes away from the man and twisted her body around to stare out of the rear of the car, seeing the police cruiser chasing them. A moment later, she saw another squad car suddenly come out from a side street. The man, however, was able to expertly steer around the police car. Angela thought she could make out her son's Mustang but wasn't sure. She quickly turned around, her mind racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to figure a way out of her present predicament. 

"Look, why don't you just turn yourself in," she pleaded with him, although she knew that trying to reason with the disturbed individual next to her was futile. 

"I said shut up!" the man shouted, going even faster. 

"Look, you're not going to get away with this," Angela told him, her voice desperate. She gasped as her body was suddenly flung sideways and she hit her shoulder hard on the passenger door, as the man just narrowly escaped crashing into another car. The blaring of car horns and the screeching of tires met her ears as the car ahead of them swerved off the road. She cried out in relief as the man gained control of the car, not so much as flinching. Angela could feel her heart pounding in her ears and with a shaky hand, she slowly reached over and fastened her seat belt. "Just give yourself up." 

"I will not give myself up! I will win. I always win," he told her, his jaw clenched as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Angela could see two more cop cars appear behind them from her side mirror. 

What are you doing? The voice asked. 

"What does it look like," the man hissed through clenched teeth. 

You can't outrun all these cops, face it, you fucked up one too many times. It's over. 

"I said shut up!" the man hollered his face psychotic. He could see another police cruiser ahead of him and quickly turned off onto a side street, the tires squealing in protest. 

Angela held her breath and watched in horror as one squad car ended up missing the turn. She could hear the crash, the sound of glass breaking and metal crunching, as it slammed into a street sign. However, she sighed in relief as the other two police cruisers quickly followed behind them. She held her breath, her mind racing, wondering what she should do. She listened in fear as the man continued to argue with himself, obviously unhinged. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself of what she had to do next. 

"I always win. Always," The man mumbled, over and over again under his breath, speeding down the street, the headlights of the other cars passing by in a blur of lights. 

"Not tonight you won't," Angela said before grabbing the steering wheel with both hands. She quickly wrenched the steering wheel to the right, the tires squealing in protest as the car turned madly. She stared in terror, acutely aware of the dizzying array of lights and sounds blurring together as the car spun madly about in circles. Her stomach lurched as the car continued to spin. Her eyes widened as the car hit another car, the crunch of metal resounding in her ears. She could hear horns blaring and the next thing she knew she could feel the car go airborne as it flipped over in the night. She could hear the shattering of glass as the windshield was crushed. As the car flipped over, she could hear the man's screams, as he was thrown around in the car, not having worn his seat belt. Finally, as the car came to a halt, miraculously right side up, the man lurched forward. He screamed one last time in terror as his body sailed through the broken windshield before landing on the ground with a sickening thud. Angela couldn't help thinking it was the most wonderful sound in the world. Then, everything went black. 

* * *

Epilogue

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Bosco asked his mother as he walked into her hospital room. The sight of her alive and awake before him caused him to smile in relief. Aside from a concussion, a broken arm and multiple cuts and bruises she was going to be fine. 

"Hey, yourself," Angela said, tears of joy sprang forward as she saw her son alive and well. Relief flowed through her as she realized how close she had come to losing him. "How are you?" she asked concerned, as she took in his bruised form. Her eyes locked on the angry bruises around his neck. "Oh, baby," Angela said tearfully as she took in her son's injuries. 

"Hey, come on, none of that now," Bosco said as he pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. He reached for her hand and held it between his own, thankful that he was able to, knowing all to well that he had almost lost her. "Mom, please don't cry," Bosco said, his own voice teary as he tried to remain strong, the sight of his mother before him making it difficult to keep his composure. 

"Oh, baby." Angela sobbed, "I'm just so glad you're alive. I thought ... he said that you were..." Angela said, not able to finish the sentence. 

"Hey," Bosco said his voice still hoarse. "You know that I'm not going to go without a fight. I'm way too stubborn for that," he told her, a small smile forming even as his own eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

Angela half laughed and half sobbed, "Thank God for that," she said, gazing at her eldest. 

"Besides," he said, his voice serious, "I made a promise to you that I would protect you, ma. I don't take my promises lightly." 

"Thank God for that too, Maurice. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there," she said, shuddering that the knowledge that she would be dead right now. 

"Hey," Bosco said, reading her thoughts. "Don't even think about it. You're going to be fine and he's dead. He'll never hurt you again, ma. I promise." 

"I know." Angela said as tears started to flow freely down her face. "I just can't believe it, you know? I mean why? Why did this man want to hurt me? I didn't even know him." 

"I don't know why, ma. He was a very sick person. I don't think we'll ever really understand why he did all those things." 

"What was his name?" Angela asked, needing closure. 

Bosco stared at her a few seconds, debating whether or not he should tell her, not wanting to upset her further. "Steven Whitmore," he said simply. 

"Steven Whitmore," Angela whispered. It sounded like such a normal name. She wondered how such a normal sounding name could belong to such a sick and troubled individual. 

"Police are searching his house. They found a whole chest filled with pictures of woman. One of the officers recognized one of them as a body they turned up about eight months ago. The detectives still have to investigate but it looks as though he had done this many times before." Bosco said softly still haunted by the photographs he had seen of the bound and brutally mutilated bodies. Angela stared numbly before her, not sure what to say. "Ma," Bosco said quietly, reaching his hand up to turn his mother's face towards him. Angela fixed sad eyes on her son. "It's over now, ma. It's over. You don't have to worry anymore. Nobody's going to try and hurt you again. I promise," he vowed. 

Angela smiled sadly, grateful for his presence. "I know," she whispered softly before gathering her son in her arms and embracing him. They stayed that was for several moments, each grateful to have the other alive and well, both knowing how easily they had come to losing one another. "Thank you," Angela whispered before pulling away, "Thank you for everything." 

"It's what a son's supposed to do," he said simply, squeezing her hand once more. "Get some rest." He told her. He watched as she settled back down, and leaned back against the uncomfortable chair he was in. As he listened to his mother's soft and even breathing, he closed his eyes. He said a silent prayer of thanks before exhaustion and fatigue finally overpowered him. 

End 


End file.
